


Spanish Lady

by liberallesbian37



Series: Project Team Beta's 2013 Writing Challenge [7]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-05 00:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liberallesbian37/pseuds/liberallesbian37
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana and Quinn's first Valentine's Day together doesn't go quite the way they planned.</p><p>Challenge 7/ Valentine's Loo<br/>Date Posted: 3/3/13<br/>Fandom: Glee<br/>Rating: M<br/>Genre: Romance/Humor<br/>Content: Language, Sexual references <br/>Character Pairing: Quintana, Quinn/Santana</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spanish Lady

   “Fucking fantastic,” Santana announced. Even in the dim light of a lantern, she could see the look Quinn gave her.

                “Santana…” she warned. Santana rolled her eyes.

                “I’m sorry, Quinn. It just sucks. The odds of a tornado in Connecticut in the middle of February are like, zero. I really wanted today to be special for you, and now this happens. It’s our first Valentine’s Day as a couple and I know how much you like that romantic shit.”

                Quinn smiled and kissed her girlfriend.

                “Baby. I’m locked in a bathroom with my girlfriend. We’re all alone. What could be more romantic? I was going to give this to you later, but it looks like you need to be cheered up.”

                Santana squinted to see what Quinn had, but the blonde just grinned and switched off the lantern.

                “What are you doing?” she asked. Quinn responded by pulling off Santana’s tank top.

                “Really, love, what are you doing wearing a tank top in the middle of February?” she asked, pressing a kiss to Santana’s shoulder. Santana shuddered.

                “I was cooking. The kitchen was warm.”

                Quinn shimmied off Santana’s skirt. 

                “And this?”

                Santana smirked. “I just wanted to see how you’d react.”

                Quinn grinned and unhooked Santana’s bra. Santana’s breath caught in her throat.

                “Q, I love you, but are you really about to jump me in the bathroom?”

                “Shh,” Quinn whispered, pushing Santana down. She was once again reminded how grateful she was for the large apartment her mother was helping her pay for. There was plenty of room for Santana to lie down on her stomach.

                “Babe, why am I laying on the floor?” Santana asked.

                “You talk too much,” Quinn replied. She grabbed something out from under the sink and straddled Santana.

                “What are you doing?” Santana complained.

                “Stop. Complaining,” Quinn whispered in her ear. Santana huffed, but followed her girlfriend’s orders. With a small smile, Quinn squirted out of dollop of lotion. She rubbed her hands together before slathering it over Santana’s back. Santana moaned in pleasure as the scent of vanilla rose washed over her.

                Quinn smiled at Santana’s reaction; it was exactly what she had expected. She began to slowly knead her girlfriend’s shoulders, gently at first, before getting rougher. Santana groaned when Quinn hit a particularly deep knot.

                “Don’t stop,” she whined as Quinn pulled away to turn on her iPod.

                “Shh, don’t worry, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” Quinn cooed. The sound of traditional Irish instruments filled the room. Still massaging Santana’s back, Quinn took a deep breath and began to sing.

_As I came down through Dublin City,_

_At the hour of twelve at night_

_Who should I see but the Spanish lady_

_Washing her feet by candlelight._

_First she washed them, then she dried them,_

_Over a fire of amber coal._

_In all my life I ne’er did see_

_A maid so sweet about the sole._

                Tears filled Santana’s eyes as Quinn sang what she had dubbed “their song”. Relaxing into the sound of Quinn’s voice and touch, Santana allowed her mind to wander back to the previous summer. Quinn had been given a chance to study in Ireland for two months, which led to a small rift between the girls. Santana was thrilled that Quinn had the opportunity to do something so incredible, but she was not so happy about the idea of not seeing her girlfriend for the whole summer. They’d been wearing down their metro passes since their initial hookup in Lima, trying to see each other as often as they could, and Santana had been looking forward to spending two interrupted months with her girlfriend.

                They’d been arguing the day Quinn left for Dublin, and both girls were afraid the relationship wouldn’t last. Quinn had been shocked when, upon arriving at dorm she would be living in, a small basket containing a  _Celtic Woman_  cd, a bottle of Guinness, fuzzy green socks, and a set of postcards was sitting on her bed. Also in the basket was a note:

_Q, I’m sorry we fought. I love you and I’m going to miss you so much. Your overseas professor—who you better not hook up with!—picked out the postcards, so I haven’t seen them. I expect to get one every week you’re gone! Call me when you’re settled. Love, S_

                A month later, Quinn had been even more surprised when she opened her door to reveal Santana holding two tickets to see  _Celtic Woman_. They’d made love all night to the sound of  _Spanish Lady._

                Santana was snapped back to the present by Quinn reaching the next verse.

_As I came back through Dublin City_

_At the hour of half past eight_

_Who should I spy but the Spanish lady_

_Brushing her hair in the broad daylight._

_First she tossed it, then she brushed it_

_On her lap was a silver comb._

_In all my life I ne’er did see_

_A maid so fair since I did roam._

                Suddenly, Santana couldn’t take it anymore. She flipped Quinn over and hovered over her. She attacked Quinn’s lips with her own, effectively muffling her girlfriend’s startled “Santana!”

                “Too…Many…Clothes…” Santana panted, pulling off Quinn’s blouse.

                “Tana…” Quinn murmured. Santana nipped at Quinn’s ear before leaving a trail of kisses from her neck to below her belly button. Santana started on her bra when, unexpectedly, the lights flashed on.

                “Fuck. Really?” Santana asked to no one in particular. Quinn grinned.

                “Maybe this is a sign we should finish that Valentine’s dinner and save dessert for tonight.”

                Santana burst out laughing, already pulling on her tank top.

                “I’m pretty sure dinner is ruined. Probably a good thing, too. I’m not exactly known for my cooking.”

                Quinn smiled and kissed her girlfriend.

                “I’m sure it would have been wonderful. But don’t worry; I think I have some quick cook pasta,” she said, walking into the kitchen.

                “And,” she called, “I bought a special bottle of white wine. Get out the glasses while I start the pasta?”

                Santana grabbed two glasses out of the cabinet and filled them with wine before sitting at the kitchen island. She crossed her legs and sighed softly, looking at Quinn. Watching the blonde twirl around the kitchen, humming to herself while she waited for the water to boil, Santana couldn’t believe how unbelievably lucky she was. Never in a million years did she think she could be this happy, especially after breaking up with Brittany. Now all she wanted to do was celebrate. Walking over to Quinn, Santana wrapped her arms around her.

                “What do you say we skip dinner and go straight to dessert? I’ll be in the bedroom,” she whispered.

                Quinn switched off the stove.

                “Who needs dinner?” she said to herself before following Santana into her room.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the great person who read through this for me. She knows who she is.


End file.
